Herculodge

The Cultural Divide Between Mini Cooper and SUV Drivers

The SUV driver is:

1.    A conspicuous and gluttonous consumer who flaunts his possessions.
2.    Loud and obnoxious, impatiently ordering food and talking with his mouth open.
3.    Dependent on his gadgets in order to define who he is to himself and to others.
4.    Fond of believing that his giant SUV affords him advantages in a car crash, which will result in his decapitating the driver of the smaller car. 
5.    So lazy that he deludes himself into believing that his SUV will compensate for his inept driving skills. 
6.    Fond of wearing a safari vest, a titanium military watch and other “outdoor” gear so that his SUV drive will transport him into an action movie that features him as the star.
7.    Woefully lacking in self-esteem and intimacy, deficiencies he tries to compensate for by hiding behind the grotesque armor of the biggest, most aggressively styled SUV imaginable.
8.    Fond of multi-tasking in his SUV, which has become, de facto, his “office away from the home.” As such, his SUV is equipped with Bluetooth headphones, DVD player, a laptop, a fax machine, a copier, a printer, a microwave, and other gadgets that make him feel like he can always enjoy the comforts of home. Of course, his multi-tasking diminishes his already crappy driving skills and makes him more of a danger to others than ever. 
9.    Happily oblivious of the fact that his ugly SUV blocks the sight of the driver behind him, emits ten times more pollutants than ordinary cars, and gulps three times the gas. He happily accepts these “small disadvantages” so that he can live a life of vain self-absorption.
10.    Like a crack-cocaine addict dependent on cheap gas so that his consumer habits reinforce our government’s dependence on foreign oil,  which comes from countries who long for our destruction. These are the same countries whose rulers and citizens gleefully applauded when they saw the World Trade Center buildings go down.

The Mini Cooper driver is

1.    proud of his diminutive car and the conspicuous way its tiny dimensions alert others to the fact that the Mini Cooper driver is making an anti-SUV statement. 
2.    Fond of eating sushi and sipping Perrier while driving past SUV drivers who are snorting down triple-decker cheese burgers and supersized milk shakes. 
3.    Fond of doing yoga and other exercises that maintain his lithe physique while driving past SUV drivers whose bloated stature needs a behemoth vehicle to accommodate their ever-expanding corpulence. 
4.    Prone to going to foreign and independent films while his SUV-driving brethren frequent “blockbusters” that feature muscle-bound action heroes, scar-faced, eye-patched villains, and gratuitous explosions. 
5.    Fond of his car’s horn sound, which is gentle and restrained  and suggests the tender admonishment of a benevolent uncle rather than a rude honking of the horn. The Mini Cooper driver also takes note of the way his mild sounding horn contrasts with the typical SUV horn, which, sounding like the bellicose cursing from a luxury cruise ship, scares the living shit out of nearby drivers. 
6.    Tolerant of aggressive drivers who cut him off and instead of succumbing to road rage and instead of playing “gotcha” and trying to get back at those who disrespect him on the road he focuses on the Cold Play or other “sensitive dream pop” that is playing from his iPod.  
7.    Proud of the way he dresses himself like a hipster in order to maximize the “Mini driving experience.” He wears the latest “understated, tasteful, all-cotton gear,” which contrasts sharply with the clothes SUV drivers wear—nylon sweat suits, loud prints, and other sartorial grotesqueries. 
8.    Proud of the way he keeps his Mini bare and clean as he finds clutter adversarial to his “Mini Cooper lifestyle.”  At most, one might find a worn copy of Flaubert’s Madam Bovary, most likely in the original French, lying in the back. In contrast, his SUV-driving brethren keep their vehicles littered with fast-food rubbish, strewn clothes, loose CDs, and other paraphernalia which reflect the chaos and disorder of their lives. 
9.    Someone who exclusively uses an Apple computer. SUV drivers in contrast use PCs. 
10.    Someone who travels throughout the world, making sure to avoid the tourist spots. SUV drivers in contrast rarely travel at all and when they do they make sure to go to all the tacky tourist attractions.

The SUV driver is:

1.    A conspicuous and gluttonous consumer who flaunts his possessions.
2.    Loud and obnoxious, impatiently ordering food and talking with his mouth open.
3.    Dependent on his gadgets in order to define who he is to himself and to others.
4.    Fond of believing that his giant SUV affords him advantages in a car crash, which will result in his decapitating the driver of the smaller car. 
5.    So lazy that he deludes himself into believing that his SUV will compensate for his inept driving skills. 
6.    Fond of wearing a safari vest, a titanium military watch and other “outdoor” gear so that his SUV drive will transport him into an action movie that features him as the star.
7.    Woefully lacking in self-esteem and intimacy, deficiencies he tries to compensate for by hiding behind the grotesque armor of the biggest, most aggressively styled SUV imaginable.
8.    Fond of multi-tasking in his SUV, which has become, de facto, his “office away from the home.” As such, his SUV is equipped with Bluetooth headphones, DVD player, a laptop, a fax machine, a copier, a printer, a microwave, and other gadgets that make him feel like he can always enjoy the comforts of home. Of course, his multi-tasking diminishes his already crappy driving skills and makes him more of a danger to others than ever. 
9.    Happily oblivious of the fact that his ugly SUV blocks the sight of the driver behind him, emits ten times more pollutants than ordinary cars, and gulps three times the gas. He happily accepts these “small disadvantages” so that he can live a life of vain self-absorption.
10.    Like a crack-cocaine addict dependent on cheap gas so that his consumer habits reinforce our government’s dependence on foreign oil,  which comes from countries who long for our destruction. These are the same countries whose rulers and citizens gleefully applauded when they saw the World Trade Center buildings go down.

The Mini Cooper driver is

1.    proud of his diminutive car and the conspicuous way its tiny dimensions alert others to the fact that the Mini Cooper driver is making an anti-SUV statement. 
2.    Fond of eating sushi and sipping Perrier while driving past SUV drivers who are snorting down triple-decker cheese burgers and supersized milk shakes. 
3.    Fond of doing yoga and other exercises that maintain his lithe physique while driving past SUV drivers whose bloated stature needs a behemoth vehicle to accommodate their ever-expanding corpulence. 
4.    Prone to going to foreign and independent films while his SUV-driving brethren frequent “blockbusters” that feature muscle-bound action heroes, scar-faced, eye-patched villains, and gratuitous explosions. 
5.    Fond of his car’s horn sound, which is gentle and restrained  and suggests the tender admonishment of a benevolent uncle rather than a rude honking of the horn. The Mini Cooper driver also takes note of the way his mild sounding horn contrasts with the typical SUV horn, which, sounding like the bellicose cursing from a luxury cruise ship, scares the living shit out of nearby drivers. 
6.    Tolerant of aggressive drivers who cut him off and instead of succumbing to road rage and instead of playing “gotcha” and trying to get back at those who disrespect him on the road he focuses on the Cold Play or other “sensitive dream pop” that is playing from his iPod.  
7.    Proud of the way he dresses himself like a hipster in order to maximize the “Mini driving experience.” He wears the latest “understated, tasteful, all-cotton gear,” which contrasts sharply with the clothes SUV drivers wear—nylon sweat suits, loud prints, and other sartorial grotesqueries. 
8.    Proud of the way he keeps his Mini bare and clean as he finds clutter adversarial to his “Mini Cooper lifestyle.”  At most, one might find a worn copy of Flaubert’s Madam Bovary, most likely in the original French, lying in the back. In contrast, his SUV-driving brethren keep their vehicles littered with fast-food rubbish, strewn clothes, loose CDs, and other paraphernalia which reflect the chaos and disorder of their lives. 
9.    Someone who exclusively uses an Apple computer. SUV drivers in contrast use PCs. 
10.    Someone who travels throughout the world, making sure to avoid the tourist spots. SUV drivers in contrast rarely travel at all and when they do they make sure to go to all the tacky tourist attractions.

"There Are Only Two Kinds of People in the World"

I was fifteen at the time, working out at The Weight Room, a health club in Hayward, California, that flourished in the 1970s. Oakland Raiders defense lineman John Matuszak and linebacker Phil Villapiano sometimes trained with me. On that afternoon, I was on the bench press with an erudite power lifter, a 300-pound man in his late twenties, long scraggly hair, thick unkempt beard, a pallor so extreme he seemed to spend most of his time in a cave. As I told him my bodybuilding goals, which included opening a gym in the Bahamas after I won Mr. Universe, he sat on the bench press and stared at me like I was a pathetic fool. He then told me to start saving my money and to learn about real estate. And then before reclining on the bench and repping 400 pounds off his saggy power lifter pecs, he scowled at me and said, "There are only two kinds of people in the world, homeowners and renters. Without a house, you don't have shit."

I was reminded of his words recently when several neighbors of mine were outside my house and a black and white kitten ran toward my driveway. "Whose cat is that?" I asked and one of my neighbors said in a loud voice that the kitten belongs to the "renters" across the street. Her tone suggested that these non-homeowning neighbors were of a cut of fabric of lower quality than those of us who stood on my driveway, for we were obviously smart people who had prioritized our resources in such a way that gave evidence to our superior smarts and values. And to reinforce our superiority over the renters, it is they who clutter are once pristine street with their half dozen SUVs and oversized trucks and to add to our misery these renters think it tasteful to adorn their gas-guzzling behemoths with 22-inch chrome wheels.

So I have to confess part of me does have contempt for these "renters," not because they don't own a home, but because they have bad taste. 

Perhaps the two types of people in this world are those who embrace chrome gaucherie and those who don't.

I was fifteen at the time, working out at The Weight Room, a health club in Hayward, California, that flourished in the 1970s. Oakland Raiders defense lineman John Matuszak and linebacker Phil Villapiano sometimes trained with me. On that afternoon, I was on the bench press with an erudite power lifter, a 300-pound man in his late twenties, long scraggly hair, thick unkempt beard, a pallor so extreme he seemed to spend most of his time in a cave. As I told him my bodybuilding goals, which included opening a gym in the Bahamas after I won Mr. Universe, he sat on the bench press and stared at me like I was a pathetic fool. He then told me to start saving my money and to learn about real estate. And then before reclining on the bench and repping 400 pounds off his saggy power lifter pecs, he scowled at me and said, "There are only two kinds of people in the world, homeowners and renters. Without a house, you don't have shit."

I was reminded of his words recently when several neighbors of mine were outside my house and a black and white kitten ran toward my driveway. "Whose cat is that?" I asked and one of my neighbors said in a loud voice that the kitten belongs to the "renters" across the street. Her tone suggested that these non-homeowning neighbors were of a cut of fabric of lower quality than those of us who stood on my driveway, for we were obviously smart people who had prioritized our resources in such a way that gave evidence to our superior smarts and values. And to reinforce our superiority over the renters, it is they who clutter are once pristine street with their half dozen SUVs and oversized trucks and to add to our misery these renters think it tasteful to adorn their gas-guzzling behemoths with 22-inch chrome wheels.

So I have to confess part of me does have contempt for these "renters," not because they don't own a home, but because they have bad taste. 

Perhaps the two types of people in this world are those who embrace chrome gaucherie and those who don't.

There Are Only Two Kinds of People in the World, Part 1

I was fifteen at the time, working out at The Weight Room, a health club in Hayward, California, that flourished in the 1970s. Oakland Raiders defense lineman John Matuszak and linebacker Phil Villapiano sometimes trained with me. On that afternoon, I was on the bench press with an erudite power lifter, a 300-pound man in his late twenties, long scraggly hair, thick unkempt beard, a pallor so extreme he seemed to spend most of his time in a cave. As I told him my bodybuilding goals, which included opening a gym in the Bahamas after I won Mr. Universe, he sat on the bench press and stared at me like I was a pathetic fool. He then told me to start saving my money and to learn about real estate. And then before reclining on the bench and repping 400 pounds off his saggy power lifter pecs, he scowled at me and said, "There are only two kinds of people in the world, homeowners and renters. Without a house, you don't have shit."

I was reminded of his words recently when several neighbors of mine were outside my house and a black and white kitten ran toward my driveway. "Whose cat is that?" I asked and one of my neighbors said in a loud voice that the kitten belongs to the "renters" across the street. Her tone suggested that these non-homeowning neighbors were of a cut of fabric of lower quality than those of us who stood on my driveway, for we were obviously smart people who had prioritized our resources in such a way that gave evidence to our superior smarts and values. And to reinforce our superiority over the renters, it is they who clutter are once pristine street with their half dozen SUVs and oversized trucks and to add to our misery these renters think it tasteful to adorn their gas-guzzling behemoths with 22-inch chrome wheels.

So I have to confess part of me does have contempt for these "renters," not because they don't own a home, but because they have bad taste.

Perhaps the two types of people in this world are those who embrace chrome gaucherie and those who don't.